


Temporary Accommodations

by BaronVonChop



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Cooking, Gen, Grocery Shopping, M/M, Sharing a Meal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15221933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronVonChop/pseuds/BaronVonChop
Summary: Han and Chewbacca need to make some credits before leaving Jedha, so they take on two unusual lodgers.





	Temporary Accommodations

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my amazing beta reader! Any remaining issues are entirely my fault.

The setting sun painted the rooftops of Jedha City shades of amber and ochre. As the sun sank lower in the sky, awnings stretched their shadows across narrow streets. On the west side of the city, the colossal Temple of the Kyber cast its prodigious shadow over a swath of the city.

The streets bustled with activity. Locals in dun robes traveled in groups, discussing the news of the day. Crimson-cloaked faithful shuffled along with their eyes downcast, not wanting any trouble from Imperial tourists in garish foreign fashions. Merchants called out the virtues of their wares from stalls, blankets, and storefronts. The scent of restaurants and food stalls wafted through the air, enticing hungry passers-by: fresh-baked breads, hearty stews, roasted vegetables and barbecued meats.

At one particular food stall, a leathery-faced Weequay woman spooned stew out of a bubbling iron pot with a wooden ladle. She filled two clay bowls and handed them to the two customers sitting on the other side of the counter.

Chewbacca looked down at his bowl and huffed. He raised his eyes to the restaurant down the street, where a column of glistening meat turned enticingly in the window. He licked his lips, then looked down at the bowl in front of him. With a sad hoot, he dipped his wooden spoon into the filmy brown stew, lifted out a mysterious lump, and let it slip back into the stew with a splat.

Han Solo sighed. "I know, but that's all we can afford for now. We don't know how long we're going to be stuck here." He leaned back so that he could peer around the awning over the shop. The sunset made the Imperial Star Destroyer hanging over the city gleam like copper. As Han watched, a shuttle lifted up into view and ascended toward the Star Destroyer, taking with it another shipment of goods looted from the temple.

Chewbacca suggested that they could just leave, job or no job.

"I wish it were that simple," Han said. "But if those Imperials object to us leaving, we may get a little banged up on our way out. We'll need spare parts to fix up the damage, which means credits to buy those parts." He stirred his stew for a moment. "We'll figure that part out later. For now, eat up."

Chewbacca dipped his spoon into the bowl, lifted it to his nose, and took a sniff. He recoiled, baring his teeth.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Han said. He took a spoonful of his own stew. He paused while the stew ran down from a lump of gristle, revealing a gray, cartilaginous lattice. Han glanced at Chewbacca, who widened his eyes, his own spoonful of stew still hanging in the air. Han braced himself and put his spoon in his mouth. His stomach heaved as the cloying taste filled his mouth. He swallowed it as quickly as he could, but he could not get the gristle down. He had to chew, trying to ignore how it crackled between his teeth. He tried to keep his disgust from showing on his face for Chewbacca's sake. When he finally swallowed it down, his Adam's apple bobbing with the effort, he saw that he had not fooled the Wookiee. "We've had worse," Han assured him, though that was not saying much, given the meals the pair had eaten over the course of their adventures.

Chewbacca lifted his spoon, gave Han a reproachful look, and put it in his mouth. He grimaced, closed his eyes, and swallowed. He blew out a breath and groaned.

"I know, but it's only until we find a job. Then we can get some proper food."

The Weequay woman gave Han a glare while stirring the pot. "I'm right here, you know."

Han and Chewbacca leaned closer together and lowered their voices. Han said, "How was I supposed to know the Empire would arrive right after we did?"

Chewbacca muttered something about excuses.

Han grimaced. "We'll find some way to make credits, don't worry." Chewbacca began to stand, but Han grabbed a tuft of fur on his arm and pulled him back down. "Finish your stew. We paid for it, and it's either this or going hungry." Chewbacca looked like he was considering the latter option, so Han added, "And I don't want to be walking around with a hungry Wookiee."

Chewbacca lifted his bowl like it weighed a hundred kilos. They finished their stew in grim silence, tucking away the sludgy meal while endeavoring to taste as little of it as possible.

As they set down their empty bowls, Han's ears caught the familiar tromp of stormtrooper boots. Chewbacca heard it, too, judging from the way he froze.

Han waved a hand. "It's just a patrol. Relax. It's got nothing to do with us."

A group of four stormtroopers marched in their direction. People stepped out of their way as they approached, and whispered together once they had passed. The stormtroopers would occasionally stop someone and ask them questions before letting them continue on their way.

As the stormtroopers reached the food stall where Han and Chewbacca were sitting, one of them motioned to Han. "You there."

Han pointed at himself, his face adopting a practiced mix of confusion and helpfulness. "Me?"

"Are you from offworld?" the stormtrooper demanded, her voice distorted by her helmet vox.

"That's right. I'm Jorriq Hapsa, and this is my first mate, Bruno. We own the _Rockskipper_ , which is docked up that way." He pointed toward the spacedocks. "I can show you my ID, if you want." He was certain the document would be good enough to fool the stormtroopers.

"I don't care about that," the stormtrooper snapped. "We're looking for a pair of criminals: two zealots from the temple. One has long dark hair and a beard, and the other is reportedly blind. Have you seen anyone matching that description?"

Han pretended to think for a moment. "I can't say we have. I'll be sure to let you know if we do, though."

"You do that. Just alert the nearest patrol and they'll take it from there." The stormtrooper sounded like she was already bored of the conversation. She turned and led her squad further up the street.

Han waited until she was busy questioning a trio of grinning, slightly inebriated Devaronians before standing and walking in the opposite direction, with Chewbacca loping along behind him. "Sounds like someone's been giving the Imperials some trouble," Han mused. "At least it should keep them busy."

Chewbacca had something else on his mind, and he told Han in a string of grumbles.

Han shrugged. "For all they know, Bruno could be a perfectly normal name for a Wookiee."

Chewbacca barked, unconvinced.

Han waved away his protest. "Now let's see if we can make a few credits." His hands fluttered at his side, eager to get to work. He felt how much the chilly air had sapped the heat from his hands, and he rubbed them together to warm them up.

Han paused a moment to let Chewbacca come closer. The tall Wookiee bent down, and Han said under his breath, "My skills may be a little rusty, so keep an eye out and let me know if it looks like anyone is watching."

Chewbacca protested in a series of moans, pointing out that smuggling was bad enough, but picking pockets was a new low.

"Well, we need to get some money somehow, and until we can find an actual job, it's our best bet. You got any better ideas?" When Chewbacca shook his head, Han nodded. "Let's see what we've got."

They drifted through the crowd, with Han's head turning this way and that as he pretended to look at the merchants and their wares, while secretly observing their customers and their wallets.

Han spotted an opportunity and approached two young women in matching yellow and white costumes browsing carvings laid out on a vendor's blanket. The couple picked up some wooden pieces and started asking the vendor, a bald older lady, about them. The vendor launched into a well-rehearsed spiel with much waving of her arms and exaggerated facial expressions. The couple listened, enraptured, occasionally nodding vigorously. Han took the opportunity to step closer, as though he were a passerby curious about the vendor's tale. His hand was nearly to the pocket of one of the women when Chewbacca pulled him away.

Once they were far enough, Han looked up at his partner and raised his hands while mouthing "what?" Chewbacca admonished Han that he should have actually listened to the vendor's tale, instead of merely pretending. The young couple had been buying a fertility statue, having just learned that one of them was pregnant. Chewbacca could not stand to take money from a young family.

"You big softy," Han muttered, but he looked somewhat chastened.

Han next sidled up next to a rotund man in shimmery robes with enormous, poofy hair. The man was being hounded by a shabby peddler wearing a sort of scaffolding on his back and shoulders, from which hung dozens of small amulets. This time, Han actually had his fingers in the man's pocket when Chewbacca nudged him.

"Alas," the man was saying, "I don't think that any trinkets you have could cure me, when the best medical minds in the galaxy could not. I am merely here to try to find some semblance of peace in the time I have left."

Han sighed and rolled his eyes, but he left the man's wallet alone and kept walking.

"You know we're going to have to find a way to get some money somehow," Han murmured. They passed a small crowd gathered around a small, feathered canine dancing to a tune played by a street performer. Occasionally someone would throw a credit chit into a box next to the performer. Han gave Chewbacca a sly smile. "Can you do any tricks?"

Chewbacca hooted in protest.

"I was kidding!" Han reached up to pat his companion's shoulder. "Come on, let's try this way."

They walked toward the temple, which dwarfed the structures around it. As they neared it, they saw street preachers and vendors selling mystical trinkets and texts. From listening in on the conversations and sermons happening around them, Han gathered that the temple had been dedicated to the Force before the Empire ransacked it.

Han rubbed his chin while looking around at the people staring at the temple or listening to the preachers. "This place may be just what we're looking for," he told Chewbacca.

"And what are you looking for?" a voice asked.

The voice came from a side street. Han peered down the narrow street and saw a robed beggar with short, dark hair sitting on the curb where the side street met an alley. The beggar's eyes were a cloudy blue and not quite gazing in Han's direction. There was something about the small, knowing smile on the man's face that unsettled Han. The man held a bowl containing a few credit chits, and a staff leaned against the wall next to him. He beckoned to Han, his smile widening.

While thinking about whether to answer the blind man's question, Han glanced at the nearby street preachers. One of them, a hammer-headed Ithorian in a green cloak, spoke in a somber baritone about trees and fate.

The beggar waved a hand. "That one is always going on about trees. People like to listen to her, even though there aren't many trees on Jedha." Something bothered Han, and after a moment he realized that the beggar, despite being blind, had known which preacher Han was watching.

Han hesitated, but curiosity drew him into the side street. Even as he approached the beggar, Han's instincts told him to be wary. He scanned the area for signs of danger and noticed a man up the alley wearing crimson combat armor and holding a heavy blaster connected to a backpack power unit. The man leaned against a wall, seemingly resting, but something about his posture told Han that the man was watching them closely. The man had a beard and long hair, and the blind beggar wore what could be religious robes. Han thought of the description the stormtrooper had given. He half-turned to Chewbacca, who rumbled an affirmative: he had noticed, too. Han tried to watch the man in the alley out of the corner of his eye while keeping his gaze on the beggar.

Han hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. He felt like he should say something and wondered how to start the conversation. With no better ideas, he settled for, "Hey there."

"Hello to you, too." The beggar cocked his head slightly. "I asked, what are you looking for?"

"Just the usual. Trying to make a few credits to get by." Han's response came out more defensive than he intended.

The blind man gave his bowl a little shake, clinking the credit chits together. "Aren't we all?" He laughed, a brief and private sound. "Well, I think you can tell what I do for a living. How about you?"

"Oh, this and that." Han waved a hand dismissively. "I take whatever I can find, wherever I can find it."

"Very wise." The beggar nodded approvingly.

A question occurred to Han. "You're kinda out of the way back here. Wouldn't you do better out in the street, where more people can see you?"

The man tilted his head as though he found the question amusing. "Something tells me that I am just where I am supposed to be." Before Han could ask another question, the man asked, "What brings you to Jedha?"

Han turned his head, looking back toward the main street to see if any passers-by had taken an interest in them. A squad of stormtroopers had appeared and were telling the preachers to disperse, so nobody even glanced down the side street.

Han shrugged. "Just trying to stay out of people's way for a while, I suppose."

The beggar stood, a surprisingly quick and smooth motion that caught Han off-guard. He took a quick step back, but the beggar gave a warm laugh. "What a coincidence! We were also looking for an opportunity to avoid attention."

Han kept his face neutral. "We?"

As if on cue, the blaster-wielding man in the alley approached them until he was standing behind the beggar. Han watched the man's body language closely. So far, the big man looked alert and watchful, but not immediately dangerous. He seemed more concerned about the stormtroopers dismissing the preachers than he was about Han or Chewie.

"I am Chirrut Îmwe," the beggar said. He picked up his staff and jabbed the man behind him. "This is Baze Malbus."

Chewbacca and Baze narrowed their eyes at each other over Han and Chirrut's heads.

"I'm Han, and this is Chewie." As soon as he spoke, he realized he had forgotten to use aliases. Something about the beggar--Chirrut--made Han want to lower his guard. Han had practiced his charm for long enough to recognize when he was being charmed, and he resolved to be more wary.

Chirrut smiled, his eyes crinkling. "You are looking for a source of income, and we are looking for a place to stay. Perhaps we could stay on your ship for a time? We would be happy to pay for our room and board."

Han couldn't help but smile at the man's audacity. "What, like at a hotel? The _Falcon_ 's been used for a lot of things over the years, but I think that would be a first."

"If it helps, you can think of it as taking on two passengers for a journey that ends at the same place it began."

"So you're not looking to leave?"

Chirrut waved a hand toward the Star Destroyer above the city. "Maybe eventually. We shall see." His smile reappeared. "So to speak."

Chewbacca nudged Han and warbled that it would be better than picking pockets.

"Well, all right," Han said. "Our ship's docked at the spaceport."

Chirrut took up his staff. "We know a way to get there which should help us avoid any prying eyes." He led the way.

"Come on," Baze grunted, then followed Chirrut.

Chirrut and Baze led Han and Chewbacca through the back alleys of Jedha, which were often so narrow that the group could only pass single file. They walked under lines of hanging laundry and occasionally startled small, scuttling creatures rooting through the trash. Han prided himself on staying a step ahead of Imperial patrols, but with Chirrut leading, they did not need Han's skills. By the time Han spotted an Imperial uniform or heard the tramp of boots, Chirrut had already turned the group away from them.

After several twists and turns, Chewbacca grumbled that he was losing his sense of direction. The streets were so narrow that they could not even see the temple to help them navigate. Han found it strange that Chewbacca felt at home on board the _Millennium Falcon_ , but tightly-packed cities made the big Wookiee claustrophobic.

"Don't worry, pal, we're still heading in the right direction," he assured his partner. Han was no stranger to back streets and chaotic city layouts, and his sense of direction rarely let him down. "The port's not far over that way." He pointed off to their right.

As soon as Han said that, Chirrut turned to the left. "This way," he said lightly.

Han slowed his pace. "Hang on. That's the wrong way." He put his hands on his hips and knit his brows. Where were these two leading them, and how much did he trust them?

Chirrut turned, a placid smile on his face. "Sometimes the most direct path is not the best path."

Chewbacca growled. Han paused, eying Chirrut and Baze. Finally, he made up his mind. "All right, we'll follow you." He pointed a warning finger at Chirrut. "But don't try anything."

Chirrut ignored Han's pointing finger, and Han reminded himself that the gesture was wasted on the blind man. Chirrut's smile widened. "Coming?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned away from the spaceport and ducked under a trellis into a street so narrow and congested with detritus and weeds that it looked more like someone's overgrown backyard. Baze followed automatically, navigating the cramped space with an ease that belied his bulky equipment.

Han and Chewbacca struggled to keep up. Han climbed over what may have been a grill and ducked through a broken-down children's play structure. He helped Chewbacca by pointing out places to step and warned the Wookiee when something was at head height.

Han had almost lost sight of Chirrut up ahead when he saw the beggar head down a short flight of stairs and disappear through a curtain hanging over a door. A moment later, Baze followed.

Han picked up his pace. As soon as he pushed aside the curtain, a wave of warm steam hit his face. He found himself in the back of a restaurant, where several Cathar washed dishes in a large sink, wearing elbow-length gloves to keep their arm fur out of the water.

Chewbacca growled in agitation. Han turned to see what was wrong and immediately snorted to keep from laughing. The steam had frizzed the Wookiee's fur, which now stood on end. Chewbacca glared at Han, as though daring him to make a comment. Han quickly scanned for Baze and Chirrut and spotted them chatting with a chubby Cathar woman while eating dumplings fresh out of a steamer. Other Cathar bustled around, busying themselves with food preparation.

The Cathar woman's triangular ears flattened against her head when she saw Han and Chewbacca, but Chirrut waved them over. "Here they are!" he said, and Han wondered how he had heard them enter over the sounds in the kitchen.

Chewbacca reached for a dumpling, but the Cathar woman swatted his hand. The Wookiee shook his hand and gave a quiet roar, but Chirrut and Baze were already moving out of the kitchen. Han followed, tugging Chewbacca to come along. Chirrut and Baze went down a dimly-lit corridor lined with flickering holo-posters and out a side door. Han and Chewbacca lengthened their strides to catch up.

The door led into an underground loading dock for unloading supplies from the spaceport. The dingy space had a low ceiling and stretched out to either side as far as Han could see in the dim light. Doors and side passages lined the walls at irregular intervals. Hefty droids and beings in grubby work gear loaded and unloaded grav-sleds, barely pausing to look up at the newcomers.

Chirrut and Baze led the way with confidence, occasionally slowing to exchange greetings with workers they knew. They walked straight up to a doorway hung with translucent cast-plast sheeting and pushed their way through. Han and Chewbacca followed into a dingy room piled with discarded machine parts. The yellow light from a single, failing glowpanel kept dimming and brightening, so Han could not tell what color the walls were.

Chewbacca trilled. "Okay, now what?" Han translated.

"Just wait," Chirrut said. He pushed aside a sheet of scrap metal, revealing a rusted, oily mechanism. He pulled a lever. The mechanism shuddered for a moment, then went still. Chirrut raised his staff and struck the mechanism, which growled to life. Han raised his eyebrows, impressed. A moment later, the room jolted and began to rise.

"An elevator!" Han marveled. "I wouldn't have guessed."

Chirrut nodded. "Few would. Most people think this is just a forgotten room full of junk."

"Because it is," Baze added, smiling to himself. "Only it's also an elevator."

Chirrut shook his head at Baze, but he could not prevent himself from smiling in return.

They waited as the room trembled and lurched while the mechanism churned.

Han raised his voice so they could hear him over the sound. "So, are you two…" He thought of the right word. There were countless spiritual traditions in the galaxy, with a wide variety of terms for their members. "...monks?"

"Guardians," Chirrut said.

"Former," Baze added, his voice barely audible in the din.

Chirrut sighed, and a pinched look of annoyance passed over his face. "We still serve the Force."

Baze did not raise his voice, but it remained firm. "You believe you serve the Force. I keep an eye on you to get you out of trouble."

Chirrut half-turned toward Baze. "And in doing so, you serve the Force."

Han got the impression that this was not the first time they had had this argument. "The Force, huh? That's some kind of invisible energy field, right?"

Chirrut's face lit up. As he opened his mouth, Baze cut in. "Basically, yes." Chirrut laughed silently while Baze rolled his eyes. "Don't get him started."

After a while, the mechanism quieted and the room's motion lessened. "Finally--" Han began, but Chirrut rapped the mechanism with his staff again, and the mechanism roared back to life. The room jerked so hard Han lost his footing and fell into Chewbacca, and they continued to ascend.

Chewbacca carefully put Han back onto his feet. "How high up are we going?" Han asked.

Chirrut raised his face as though looking toward their destination. "One floor," he intoned.

Han goggled. Baze chuckled. "It's a very slow elevator."

Finally, with a dire cough from the mechanism, they reached the top. Or rather, they almost reached it, as they had to step up about half a meter to exit the elevator.

They found themselves in a hallway inside the spaceport. They passed several docking bays, roughly circular spaces open to the sky above, with fuel lines leading from fueling stations along the walls. Many of the docking bays were occupied by a variety of ships, ranging from tourist pleasure yachts to beat-up local delivery shuttles crammed three to a bay.

The _Millennium Falcon_ occupied a cheap, dimly-lit docking bay with drifts of grit and garbage blown against its walls. Han felt himself relax as he approached the familiar freighter squatting on its landing struts. What to others looked like oil and grime, Han would call character: the scrapes, dents, and scorch marks on the ship's hull each held memories. He looked at Baze and Chirrut to see their reactions.

Baze shrugged. "Not pretty, but I've seen worse," he said.

Chirrut leaned back, as though taking in the view. "Looks fine to me!"

Han scoffed, but he had to smile. "All ships look the same to you, huh?"

For a moment, Chirrut looked so serious that Han was taken aback. "No, I really feel something… something familiar about this ship…" He suddenly grinned. "Is that Correllian oil I smell? The ship that delivers noodles from Mon Cala uses the same oil!"

Han walked up to the hull and reached up for the panel by the landing ramp. Before he keyed the button to lower the ramp, he laid his hand on the metal hull beside it. He liked how it felt against his hand, solid and cool. No matter how cash-strapped he and Chewbacca might be, as long as they had the _Falcon_ , they had a home.

Han keyed the panel. The ramp descended with a hydraulic hiss and a metallic groan. "Welcome aboard," he said.

Chewbacca led the way up the ramp. Han brought up the rear, pressing the controls at the top of the ramp to retract it.

As the ramp sealed shut behind them, Han took a deep breath. The ship's air system circulated smells from all over the ship, each one as familiar to Han as the fit of his boots. He could tell that a fuel line in the hyperdrive was getting clogged, the hydraulic fluid in the aft cargo hold's freight elevator was not as high-grade as the tech on Nar Shaddaa had claimed, and Chewbacca had hidden some gnoshr in an access panel for a future snack again.

Glowpanels along the ship's walls cast yellowish light over the grimy hallway. Han asked, "How about a tour?"

"Oh, yes please!" Chirrut replied. Baze shrugged.

Han pointed to the right. "Let's go this way." They started along the semicircular corridor. Baze's footsteps sounded loud on the metal floor plating, but Chirrut's feet hardly made any noise at all. "The _Falcon_ 's layout is pretty much a circle, so if you ever get lost, find this corridor and keep going around until you find what you're looking for. The cockpit's up that way," he nodded at a straight corridor running off to the right.

Chewbacca growled something.

"Yeah, you two should probably stay out of there," Han said, turning from the cockpit corridor.

He pointed to a ladder in an alcove on the left. "That leads to the guns. You should definitely stay out of there."

Chirrut chuckled. "Does this tour cover places we can go, or only places we can't?"

Chewbacca raised his eyebrows. Han sighed. "All right, come on."

They continued along the semicircular corridor into a larger, wedge-shaped room. "This is the main cargo hold. It's probably a good place to spend time." He put his hand on a chair to his left in front of a blinking console. "This is the engineering station. Don't push any of the buttons."

Baze frowned at the console. "Some of those lights are red. Should we be worried?"

Han tapped some of the buttons, checked a display, and tapped more buttons. Eventually, he said, "Nah," though the way he drew out the sound betrayed his uncertainty. He considered the lights a moment longer before adding, "But if anything ever starts flashing, let me know."

He stepped over to a semicircular couch around a round, checkered table to the right of the entrance. "If you play dejarik, you can use this table."

"Dejarik?" Chirrut asked.

"Holo-chess," Baze grunted.

Chirrut looked at Han, his face aglow. "Oh! Do you play, Captain?"

"Not really," Han said. "Chewie does, though."

Chirrut reached for Baze and grabbed his poncho. "Baze is an avid player! Perhaps he could play a game later?"

Han looked at Chewbacca, who shrugged. "Yeah, maybe," Han said

"Hardly avid," Baze grumbled.

Han raised a cautionary hand. "Though, I should warn you, Chewie doesn't like to lose."

"Excellent!" Chirrut grinned. "Because Baze is unlikely to win!"

Baze rolled his eyes. "I thought I was an avid player?"

Chirrut shrugged, palms up. "That doesn't mean you're any good!"

Han crossed the room. In the corner opposite the dejarik table, a narrow doorway led to a closet-sized room whose walls were covered with panels, fuse boxes, tubes, and rows of lights. "That's the circuitry bay," Han said. "Not much in there you need to worry about." He glanced inside from the doorway, then turned. The others followed him down a short corridor which led to the port airlock.

Han tapped his boot on a slightly raised metal platform on the floor. "If anyone ever feels like going up on the hull, this lift can take you up. Just let me or Chewie know, and we can operate it for you."

"Oh?" Chirrut asked with a slight smirk. "We're allowed to go on the hull? That's not off-limits?"

"Well, don't fall off," Han said. "Come on." He led them through some turns to a door on the right side of the corridor. "These are the crew quarters." The room was small, with a bunk along each of the three walls.

"There are only three bunks," Baze pointed out.

Han frowned, thinking. "I can sleep in the cockpit. I've done that plenty of times. It's comfortable enough."

"Nonsense!" Chirrut exclaimed. "Baze and I can share a bunk."

Baze scowled at the bunks dubiously. "They're small bunks, Chirrut."

Chirrut walked to one of the bunks and felt its dimensions. "It'll be fine."

Baze tossed his blaster onto the center bunk, took off his pack, and laid it next to the blaster. "I get my own bunk. The captain can sleep in the cockpit."

Han cleared his throat. "That's Chewie's bunk." Next to him, Chewbacca shifted his weight forward a bit.

Baze sat down on it. "It's against the hull. I like it."

Chirrut's voice was soothing. "Baze…"

"I'm a guest," Baze said. "And we're paying, right? So I pick."

Han tried a different tack. "Chewie sheds."

Baze grunted. "So do I."

"He might have fleas."

Chewbacca yelped an objection, but Baze was already saying, "My fleas aren't scared of his fleas."

Chewbacca sighed and sat on the bunk on the right, warbling his acquiescence to Han.

Chirrut sat on the left bunk. "Looks like this one is mine."

There were doors to the left and right of the entrance. "Shower's on the left," Han said. "The ‘fresher's on the right."

"Finally," Baze said. He hustled into the refresher and closed the door.

"Um," said Han, looking at Chirrut. "Should we wait? There's not much left to see."

"We can continue," Chirrut replied, stepping into the corridor. "I'll fill him in on what he missed."

Chewbacca leaned toward Han and muttered something. Han thought about it. "I'll just… describe things."

They crossed to the other side of the corridor. "There's another circuitry bay here," Han said. "And a little further along, there's another engineering station. Lots of buttons and lights. There's only one place left," he went on. They entered the aft section of the ship. "This is where the engines are."

Chirrut stood still for a moment. "This must be the heart of the ship."

"You could say that," Han said. 

"Would you mind guiding me closer?" Chirrut asked.

"Here." He took Chirrut by the upper arm and steered him over to the hyperdrive. "Step up over that… there you go. Okay, put your hand out. This is the hyperdrive. It looks kind of like a big lantern, and it glows when it's powered up. It's got a bunch of fuel lines and power conduits running into it and out of it."

Chirrut ran his hand over the hyperdrive's casing, then gave it a pat. "Feels hefty."

Han took a tool from an open toolbox, unplugged one of the fuel lines leading into the hyperdrive, and started digging around inside. "Of course, it's not the original hyperdrive that the _Falcon_ had when she was assembled. It's not even the same one she had when I got her. Around here," he looked around, "nothing is stock."

"You have been improving it?" Chirrut asked.

"In one way or another," Han said, "that's the general idea. Chewie and I have spent a lot of time making things more powerful, tougher, harder to detect…" He paused, glancing at Chirrut to see if he reacted to that last item. Han figured Chirrut probably suspected already that he and Chewbacca were smugglers, and while Chirrut clearly had no love for the Empire, spiritual types could sometimes be judgemental about careers that skirted the law.

Chirrut shrugged.

Han continued, "Well, anyway, the sublight engines are over here, against the hull." Chirrut walked forward until his hand touched the blocky engine cover that curved along the room's outer wall. "And that's pretty much it," Han said. "Come on, I'll lead you back around so you can get a better feel for how the ship is laid out."

They stopped when they reached the point where the landing ramp met the corridor. Han said, "This is the spot where we came on board. Do you think you can get around all right?"

Chirrut patted the wall. "Oh yes. I'm starting to feel right at home."

Han heard Baze's footsteps coming around the corridor.

As soon as Baze came into view, he immediately declared, "Your ‘fresher's clogged."

Han blinked in surprise. "It was working fine earlier. It's not clogged, it's probably just--"

Baze looked him right in the eye. "It is now."

"Ah." Han looked from Baze to Chirrut, unsure how to proceed. Chirrut looked as placid as ever, while Baze gave Han an appraising look, as though evaluating his response. "Chewie, do you think you could just--"

Chewbacca howled at the injustice and started listing the various undesirable chores he had completed recently. Han held up his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I'll do it." He looked at Baze and Chirrut. "Are you two going to be all right on your own for a few minutes?"

"Of course," Chirrut replied. "I can show Baze the hyperdrive."

Han turned to go, then paused. "It's getting kinda late. We don't have much food on the ship, so…"

"We already ate," Chirrut said. "Have you had dinner as well?"

Chewbacca rumbled a complaint, to which Han replied, "Sorry, that stew was dinner." Before he left, Han leaned close to Chewbacca. "Keep an eye on them, would ya?"

By the time Han had finished fixing the refresher, Chirrut, Baze, and Chewbacca were all asleep in their bunks. Chewbacca tended to murmur in his sleep, and Baze and Chirrut both snored. As Han made his way to the cockpit, he told himself that it was probably for the best that he would be sleeping in the pilot's chair.

Han turned the lights in the cockpit down low, so that the main sources of illumination were the instrument panels and displays. He settled himself into the captain's chair, shimmying his shoulders to burrow down a little bit more into the soft padding. He spent a few moments gazing out at the docking bay. It felt strange to sit in the cockpit and see something other than stars or the blue tunnel of hyperspace. Normally, looking at a docking bay, he would expect to be either landing or taking off. Tonight, he had nowhere to go.

He closed his eyes. For a few minutes, he listened to the whisper of the ship's air system and the soft clicks of the ship's internal sensors cycling through routine patterns. Then he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

As he came awake, it took him a drowsy moment to remember why he was in the cockpit. Waking up in the pilot's chair usually meant that someone was chasing them and he couldn't afford to leave the cockpit for a moment. He banished half-formed images of pursuing Imperials or gangsters, reminding himself that, for the moment at least, they were safe.

Once he was fully awake, he stood and stretched, working out the kinks in his back and shoulders. His chair was comfortable and familiar, but it was not designed for sleeping. Rubbing a hand over his face, he shuffled out of the cockpit.

He heard a commotion coming from the main hold: voices talking, cutlery on plates, and sizzling. He picked up his pace and entered the hold, then stopped as he took in the scene.

Someone had set up the portable camping stove. Baze stood over it, holding a spatula and watching a pan sizzling on the stove. He lifted a pancake from the pan, tossed it into the air, and caught it with the pan, which he placed back on the stove. Nearby, a bowl full of pancake mix waited on the dejarik table. Chewbacca and Chirrut sat at the table with plates, both eating pancakes.

Chirrut turned toward Han. "Ah, good morning! What excellent timing. Your pancake should be ready soon, and we've all already had some."

Unsure what else to say, Han started with, "Good morning." He walked over and looked at the bowl of pancake mix. "So, where'd you get all this?"

"It was in one of the forward holds," Chirrut explained. "Chewbacca helped us find the ingredients we needed."

Han looked over at his copilot. "Oh, he did, did he?" Chewbacca concentrated on his pancake, avoiding eye contact with Han. Han continued, "Among our emergency supplies?"

Chewbacca, still looking only at his pancake, grumbled something.

"Oh, so this is an emergency?" Han widened his eyes with sarcasm.

Looking up for a moment, Chewbacca gave a soft, indignant roar.

"Perhaps," Baze cut in, "You would care to taste one?"

Chewbacca tilted his head, waiting to see what Han would do. Han pursed his lips for a moment, then took Baze's proffered plate. "Thanks." He sat down at the engineering station nearby and took a bite of the pancake. It was not particularly flavorful--after all, they did not have much to work with--but it was warm and fluffy.

"Well?" Chirrut asked.

"It's good," Han replied.

Chirrut beamed. "I am glad! Well, eat up, there will be plenty to go around." He got up and set a kettle of water on the stove. He took out a packet of tea leaves from a pocket in his robes and found a smaller pot to use as a teapot, and soon everyone had a steaming cup of tea to go with his breakfast. Baze continued to cook more and more pancakes, occasionally pausing to eat one himself.

Han was used to eating breakfast in a hurry, scarfing down a ration bar before turning his attention to more important things. To his surprise, it felt good to relax and take his time eating. The pancakes warmed his belly and gave him a full feeling that a ration bar could not.

Chirrut broke the silence while Baze served Chewbacca another pancake. "Unless I am mistaken, you are a Wookiee?"

Chewbacca glanced at Han, then back to Chirrut. He rumbled an affirmative. "He said ‘yes,'" Han offered.

"I had a feeling," Chirrut said. "I have met very few of your species. It is a shame that so few of you roam free in the galaxy."

Han leaned forward a bit, keeping an eye on Chewbacca's body language. Chirrut was approaching some sensitive topics. So far, Chewbacca seemed calm, though not as relaxed as he had been moments ago.

"If you will forgive me for raising the subject, I could not help but observe that Baze and I are a bit like you," Chirrut continued. "The Empire has laid waste to our home, ending our way of life. We have no choice now but to continue on as we can."

Chewbacca lowered his eyes. He mumbled something in a voice so low that it took Han a moment to realize what he had said. "At least you are free."

Baze said, "That is indeed something to be grateful for." Chirrut nodded in agreement.

Chewbacca asked a question, and Han translated. "You fight the Empire, don't you? That's why they're looking for you."

"When we can, yes," Chirrut said.

Chewbacca asked another question. Han leaned forward in his chair. "Is that why you're not sure you want to leave? So that you can keep fighting here?"

Chirrut and Baze were both silent for several moments. Chirrut replied, "That is one of the reasons. It is still difficult to leave the temple, even though it is empty."

"The Empire can't stay forever," Baze said. "Once they have what they want, they will go."

"Are you sure about that?" Han asked. "The Empire keeps growing stronger. Pretty soon, there may not be anywhere left in the galaxy that's not in the Empire's grip."

Chirrut said, "I trust in the Force. It will take me to where I need to be." Baze sighed, but did not say anything. Chirrut added, "Well, it looks like we are out of mix. What is next on the schedule for today?"

Han looked at the readouts on the engineering station. "There's some repairs and maintenance that Chewie and I have been meaning to get to. Just some minor things," he added, "but we probably shouldn't leave them too long."

Chirrut's voice was mild as he asked, "Can it wait until later in the day?"

Han exchanged a glance with Chewbacca. "Probably…"

"Given how little food there is on the ship, I thought that we might visit the market."

A chuckle escaped Han's throat. "You want to go grocery shopping? The Empire is looking for you, remember?"

Chirrut held up a hand. "We will stick to back alleys and those parts of the city the Empire does not patrol as often. And it will not take long, especially if we have your help."

Han realized they had not finalized arrangements for payment yet. "We don't have the credits for--"

"Our treat," Baze said.

Chewbacca warbled his agreement. Han shrugged. "All right, sounds good to me."

* * *

When Han and Chewie had explored Jedha City before, it had felt like the whole city consisted of one big market. When they had returned with Chirrut and Baze to the spaceport, they had seen some of the back alleys, but even then those back alleys served as tributaries to the main streets. Now, as Han followed Chirrut and Baze, he saw a new side to the city.

They passed through a small square where children chased a rag ball while their parents sat talking on benches, while old-timers played board games by a ruined fountain. Chirrut kicked the ball into the air and bounced it from knee to knee before punting it across the square, sending the children squealing after it. Baze, meanwhile, hovered over the board games in progress, running a hand through his beard and exchanging thoughtful looks with the players, without offering any commentary beyond "hm."

Several houses in the neighborhood stood empty, their windows and doors boarded up. Han noticed scorch marks from blasters in the walls. Whoever had lived there had been taken by force.

Chirrut and Baze led Han and Chewbacca to a local market run by a Vuvrian couple. The tall insects had many eyes arranged asymmetrically across their broad faces. Han got the sense they did not have to worry about shoplifters.

Chirrut chatted with the Vuvrians while he and Baze filled a large, deep basket made of woven grass with a variety of vegetables and fruits. Han spoke enough Vuvrian to catch that the husband worried about how Chirrut and Baze were doing since the destruction of the temple, and the wife hoped they were making the Imperials pay.

When Baze reached for his wallet, the Vuvrians waved him away. "We could never repay you for your help last week," the wife said.

"Stay safe out there," the husband added, taking his wife's hand.

Baze nodded.

Next they went to a park nestled between some two-story apartment buildings. The park was even smaller than the square, and consisted only of three small, withered trees, some bushes, and a pair of benches. A Miralukan teenager sat on one of the benches reading a datapad.

An elderly Devaronian man stood behind a cart with a single word on the side: Nuts. The top of the cart was divided into sections, each with a separate lid. Chirrut and Baze walked up to the cart, and the Devaronian smiled, exposing teeth still sharp despite his age.

"My favorite customers!" he declared. "What will it be today?"

Chirrut replied, "We're shopping for some new friends." It took Han by surprise to hear Chirrut describe them as friends. Surely Chirrut was just being polite, he decided.

The Devaronian nodded. "Then may I recommend the chelonuts? They are especially sweet today." He handed Baze a long bag, and he gave Chirrut some tongs.

Chirrut lifted the lids one at a time, and steam puffed up from the roasted nuts inside. He sniffed the steam, then extracted nuts with the tongs, turning them this way and that before handing them to Baze, who put them in the bag. He took several large nuts with knobby brown shells, which Han assumed were the chelonuts the seller had recommended.

When Chirrut had gone through the cart, Baze tried to pay the Devaronian.

"You know your credits are no good here," the Devaronian laughed. "With all that you do, I only wish you came by more often!"

"Thank you," Baze said.

"Just one more stop," Chirrut told Han and Chewbacca as they ducked under a dilapidated gate into an alley full of discarded furniture. "Then we'll have all the ingredients we need for tonight's dinner."

"You really don't have to go through all this trouble," Han said. "I mean, I appreciate it, but…"

"It's no trouble," Chirrut said. "As you can imagine, Baze and I have not had much of an opportunity to stop and prepare a meal since the Empire came to Jedha. This is a rare treat for us as well."

Han glanced at Baze, but could not get a read on the man's expression. Well, Chirrut seemed set on it, and perhaps a home-cooked meal on the _Falcon_ would be nice. "All right," Han sighed. "Where to next?"

"Follow me," Chirrut said. Near the park, a two-story building had a ladder leaning against it. Chirrut climbed the ladder. Baze followed him up, moving somewhat awkwardly in his armor. The thin ladder bent under Baze's weight, and Han thought it wise to wait until the big man got to the top before following. Han went next, with Chewbacca bringing up the rear. Chewbacca grumbled about how slowly the others climbed, pointing out the climbing came naturally to Wookiees.

When they had reached the top, Han felt the chilly Jedha breeze more strongly, since it had no buildings around to block it. 

"Here we are," Chirrut announced. "This is the last place in the city to get certain spices. The Imperials have requisitioned all other sources for themselves." A small shack built of corrugated metal huddled on the roof, with a wind chime hanging next to the board that served as its door. Even at this distance, Han could smell a strong aroma of spices emanating from the hut.

"Let's hope the Imperials don't find out about it," Baze said. He knocked on the wall next to the doorway, and a droid's tinny voice came from inside.

"Come in! We're open!"

Baze entered the small space. Chirrut stayed outside, looking in through the door, and Han joined him.

Mismatched, leaning shelves filled the interior of the hut. The tallest shelves stood next to the walls, while smaller shelves crisscrossed the remaining space, forming a tiny maze of sorts. The shelves teemed with jars of every size, shape, color and material. Some were opaque, concealing their contents, while others were transparent or translucent, revealing powders, seeds, dried plants, and a host of other goods. Strings of dried herbs hung from the ceiling and the shelves. The many scents overwhelmed each other, layered to the point where they became a single olfactory entity. Han felt like his nose hairs might burn off, and he noticed that Chewbacca had stayed on the other side of the roof, his keen sense of smell not permitting him to come closer.

A whirring sound came from within, and a moment later a hovering droid bobbed into view. "Greetings, honored customers!" the droid said, her small voice warbling with distortion. "What can I get you this fine day?"

Baze listed the things he needed and the amounts he needed. As Baze spoke, the droid swayed in the air, rising and sinking as her repulsor's hum grew louder and softer. When Baze had finished, the droid exclaimed, "Right away!" and careened back through the shelves, somehow avoiding bumping anything.

"No rush," Baze added, his deep voice surprisingly gentle.

The droid returned a few minutes later, her repulsors humming more loudly as she carried a bag held in two small pincers. She announced the total price, which Baze paid. "Thank you," he added, as he stashed the bag somewhere under his poncho.

Chirrut turned to Han and Chewbacca. "We now have what we need for dinner!"

"So what next?" Han asked. "Back to the Falcon for lunch? If all this food is for dinner, we'll probably want to pick up something along the way. We don't have much left on the _Falcon_ in the way of food."

Chirrut thought about the suggestion. "Since we're already out here, why not allow us to take you someplace for lunch? It will be easier than having to buy lunch and carry it back to the ship along with all these other things for dinner."

Chewbacca expressed his concern in some warbles and mumbles. "Chewie's right," Han said. "We're probably already pushing our luck. You hired us to keep you safe on board the _Falcon_ , after all."

"It's fine," Baze said. "Now come on."

They climbed down the ladder. Chirrut turned his head as though listening for a moment, perhaps getting his bearings, and then he started off down the street.

They passed several small, bald Talpini, resting on hammocks the alley while weaving baskets. One of the Talpini, bored of weaving, dangled a strand of grass to a fluffy arachnid pet who crouched nearby, eyes fixed on the tantalizing grass.

They went under a bridge that connected two halves of a run-down hotel. They found themselves in a courtyard, and Chirrut pointed out their destination. The only indication that there was a restaurant here was a word written in scratchy letters over the door along with a faded picture of a dumpling. They descended a half-flight of stairs and entered the restaurant.

Despite the its remote location and unassuming exterior, most of the restaurant's many tables were occupied by customers. Glowspheres hanging from square columns lit the spacious interior. The walls and columns were decorated with cream-colored, abstract sculptures in a pleasant variety of shapes and textures.

Small, furry Chadra-Fan servers pushed carts laden with tiny baskets, plates, and bowls between the tables. Another Chadra-Fan stood behind a small podium by the door. She squeaked a welcome to them and led them a square table with a broad, circular metal ring embedded in its center. She tapped a panel on the side of the table and the ring hummed to life, lifting a few inches from the table and hovering in place.

Han, Chewbacca, Chirrut, and Baze sat around the table. There were no utensils, but each of them had a pink cloth that smelled vaguely of leaves and berries. Chirrut and Baze wiped their hands on the damp cloths, so Han and Chewbacca followed suit.

Han leaned over to Chirrut. "Where are the menus?"

"You can ask for a menu if you want," Chirrut said, looking around. "I find it is more fun to order from the carts."

Han looked at Chewbacca, who raised his eyebrows. "All right," Han said. "I'm game." He scanned the other tables to get an idea for the things the other guests were eating. He saw a lot of buns, dumplings, rolls, and cakes. Most of them seemed to have some kind of filling, but he had no idea what that filling might be. This was going to be interesting.

A Chadra-Fan rolled a cart over to their table and stopped. She squeaked a question to Han, who blinked. "Uh…" He looked to Chirrut for help, but for once, Chirrut did not seem to notice what was happening. He stared fixedly forward, though Han thought he detected the hint of a smile there. Baze had his attention on one of the other carts, which must have held food more to his liking.

The Chadra-Fan server took a basket from her cart and lifted the lid. A puff of steam emerged, and Han saw four round white buns nestled inside. The server chittered and waited for Han to say something. "Sure," Han said. "We'll take it."

The server nodded and put the basket on the table. She grabbed a basket from another shelf on her cart, lifted the lid, and showed its contents to Han. This one contained five dumplings, smaller than the buns and with translucent yellow skins. Han could not make out what was inside, but he shrugged. "Okay, that one, too."

The Chadra-Fan pressed a few buttons on the panel on the side of the table, then rolled her cart away, heading for another table.

Han took one of the buns and turned it over in his hands. He nibbled it. It was warm and soft, with a slightly sweet flavor. He split the bun with his fingers and looked inside. What looked like chunks of meat sat at the center of the bun, covered in a glistening brownish-red sauce. Han took a bite of the bun and the meat. It tasted nice, a bit like Shistavenan barbecue.

He ate the bun, then grabbed one of the dumplings. They had not received utensils, and he could see guests at other tables eating with their hands, so he figured it was fine. He bit an end off the dumpling and found the insides surprisingly chewy, covered in a tangy, dark sauce.

"Well?" Baze asked.

"It's good," Han said.

Baze let out a small sigh. "I'm glad, but could we have some, too, please?"

Han laughed, embarrassed, and put the baskets onto the hovering circle, which he rotated so that everyone could take a bun and a dumpling.

As the meal went on, more foods made their way to the table from carts, while servers took away the empty baskets, bowls, and plates.

They all tried a bit of everything, and so their conversation naturally focused on the food. If someone liked something more than the others, that person would get to finish what remained. Han was especially fond of some leaf-wrapped paste.

When they were all getting full, Baze made his first choice of the meal. They each got a soft, wobbly dessert with a translucent, segmented skin that showed the creamy pink filling. When Han bit into it, the flavor turned out to be more subtle than he had expected, sweet and a little bit tangy.

Han looked at the half of the dessert left in his hand, its pink inside glistening. "That's nice," Han said. "What is it?"

"It's one of Baze's favorites," Chirrut replied. "A wokwa grub."

Han's eyebrows rose. "A wokwa... grub?"

Chirrut nodded. "A lot of Chadra Fan food is insect-based."

Han thought back. "So, the fillings of the buns, and the paste, and the… rice...."

Baze shrugged. "All insects."

Han had a piece of pasta caught between two molars. He picked at it with his tongue, then swallowed it with the realization that it was probably a crunchy beetle shell. He glanced at Chirrut and Baze, who waited silently, waiting to see his reaction. Chewbacca licked the empty shells on his plate.

Han leaned back, lifted the glistening half-grub, and popped it in his mouth. It had a smooth texture, and the flavor was really quite refreshing. "I like it," Han declared.

Baze waved at a passing Chadra-Fan. To Han's surprise, the formerly attentive server ignored them. This happened two more times before Baze put out his arm to prevent a hurrying Chadra-Fan from passing their table. Han realized what was happening as Baze and the server began arguing quietly, the server shaking his head frequently. Finally, Baze gestured to Han and Chewbacca, offering to at least pay their share of the bill. The Chadra-Fan hesitated, Baze insisted, and the Chadra-Fan finally relented.

The four of them stood and headed for the door. Han felt sluggish from all the food he had eaten, and judging from the sighs coming from his companions, they felt the same.

They started back toward the spaceport. Before long, Han noticed something change about Chirrut and Baze's pace. They slowed down, their posture more cautious. A moment later, Han realized why, as he heard the sound of stormtrooper boots off to their right. Up ahead, he glimpsed an Imperial checkpoint at the end of a narrow alley.

"Quickly," Chirrut said, ducking into an abandoned store. Broken shelves and displays crunched underfoot as they crouched down in the darkened store.

After waiting several minutes, Chirrut nodded. "Let's go."

They soon discovered that the Imperials had created several more checkpoints in the area. Each time they encountered one, Chirrut grew increasingly frustrated.

After a half-hour detour led to yet another checkpoint, Chirrut tightened his grip on his staff, his face resolute.

Baze laid a hand on Chirrut's shoulder. "Chirrut. Now is not the time."

Chirrut touched the basket of food Baze carried. He bowed his head. "Let's go."

It took them several hours of avoiding patrols, doubling back, and circumventing checkpoints to return to the spaceport. When they were back on the _Falcon_ , they deposited their groceries in the main room by the dejarik table.

Chirrut focused his attention on the approaching dinner, seemingly determined not to dwell on the Imperial occupation of the city. He rooted through the basket of food they had gathered. "Let's see, what are we going to need? Let's start with some pots, a pan, some knives, a ladle, and some heating units."

Han thought. "Chewie, see what you can find in the forward hold. Since we've already started going through our emergency supplies, we may as well use the rest. We can restock afterward."

Chewbacca trilled a question.

"I need to check on the negative power coupling," Han said, reaching down to tug up a floor panel. He set it aside, exposing the complicated machinery underneath. "If we're going to be leaving here in a hurry, I don't want anything to short out on us."

Chirrut spoke up. "Baze and I still have not made up our minds about whether we'll be leaving Jedha."

"Take your time," Han said. He entered the nearby circuitry bay and returned with a box of tools. He laid the box on the edge of the opening in the floor and climbed down among the machinery.

Baze came over and knelt, looking down into the hole. "Can I help?"

"If you do maintenance on that cannon of yours, you must know your way around tools," Han said.

"Sure," Baze replied.

Han showed him how to inspect the wiring, and Baze followed along. The work was fiddly and time-consuming, and soon their fingertips were sore. Baze did not utter a sound of protest. They worked together in silence.

Meanwhile, Chewbacca and Chirrut came and went, bringing with them folding tables, cooking utensils, pots, and pans.

"All right, that should do it," Han said. "Let me see how you're doing." Baze leaned aside, showing Han that he was also finished. Han raised his eyebrows approvingly. "That looks like thorough work."

They hoisted themselves back up, and Han reattached the floor panel. In the other half of the room, Chirrut and Chewbacca were washing vegetables. "All done?" Chirrut asked.

"Yes," Baze replied.

"Great timing! We need someone to start peeling these vegetables. But wash your hands first, they're filthy!"

Chirrut turned on some portable heating units and set pots and pans over them. He gave everyone a task: Han peeled the vegetables, Baze chopped them. Chirrut paused momentarily when he realized they didn't have a nutcracker, but Chewbacca solved that problem by picking up a hard-shelled nut and squeezing it in one hand until it cracked. He flicked away the bits of shell with a self-satisfied snort.

Han once again tried to figure out how Chirrut always seemed to know what was going on. He supposed that Chirrut could listen to the sounds of peeling and chopping to know how busy everyone was, and certainly some of the vegetables were more fragrant when chopped, but it boggled his mind when Chirrut somehow knew that Han had started to get sloppy with peeling and had missed a few spots. Could Baze be giving him signals? Baze wasn't saying much, and Han couldn't figure out any other signals passing between Baze and Chirrut.

Once everything was simmering in pans or bubbling in pots, Han marveled at the aromas wafting through the hold. He was used to the smell of oil, grease, and fuel, but the smell of cooking food made him see the mail hold in a new light. When the food was ready, Baze and Chirrut filled plates for everyone. Baze, Chirrut, and Chewbacca sat around the dejarik table, while Han turned the engineering station's chair toward them so that they were all eating together.

Unlike the pancakes which they had eaten for breakfast, the dinner tasted rich and flavorful. The spices from the robot's shop brought out the nuances of the vegetables. Baze had simmered a sauce with the nuts, which added some depth to the flavors.

Han and Chewie had shared many meals on the _Falcon_ , occasionally including colleagues, associates, or passengers, but as Han looked around the room, he reflected that this was the most it had felt like a home in a long time. The _Falcon_ was always Han's home, there was never any doubt of that, but this was how he pictured a home when others shared fond memories of warmth and togetherness.

Chirrut put down his utensils for a moment and patted the wall next to him. "I've been thinking. It must be nice to be able to go anywhere in the galaxy whenever you want."

Han replied, "Yeah, it's all right. There are some pretty amazing things to see if you know where to look. There are worlds with white sand beaches with clear blue waters, or crystal caves where the softest light surrounds you, or hundred-foot canyon walls carved into lace by the winds, where the slightest breeze creates melodies."

Chirrut turned his face to Han. "So your destiny is entwined with your ship's."

"Here it comes," Baze said, "the Force."

Chirrut ignored Baze and continued. "At the Temple, they taught that two lives can walk the same path in the Force, as Baze and I do." Baze sighed and rolled his eyes, but he could not hide the pleased smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Chirrut went on, "I have long believed that this can apply not only to living beings, but to other things as well, like you and your starship."

Chewbacca grunted and roared something, and Han paused before translating. "The Wookiees believe something similar."

Baze nodded thoughtfully. "Why don't you tell us about some of those places you have been?"

"What would you like to hear?" Han exchanged a glance with Chewbacca.

Chirrut said, "Tell us more about that beach you mentioned earlier. It sounds romantic." He reached out and laid his hand over Baze's. "Like the perfect place for a couple of old troublemakers to retire."

Baze smiled, his whole face softening in stages. "Is there a riptide that might carry a foolish swimmer out to sea, leaving his husband to enjoy his retirement in peace?"

Chirrut laughed and squeezed Baze's hand. "You wouldn't be able to live without me!"

Han smiled, too, and they spent the rest of the dinner talking about the planets, moons, asteroids, and stations Han and Chewbacca had visited. Chewbacca had a great memory for scents, and he would sometimes interject to describe the smells of a place for Chirrut.

After dinner, Baze and Chewbacca fired up the dejarik table and were soon engrossed in the game.

Han wondered what Chirrut thought of dejarik. The holographic pieces offered little to a blind man, though Han figured Chirrut could hear the creatures' squeaks, roars, and scurrying sounds as they moved across the board and fought each other.

With each move that passed, Baze and Chewbacca both took longer to contemplate their next moves.

Chirrut broke the silence. "I wonder if the sun has set yet?"

Baze scoffed. "We can't tell in here, either," he reminded Chirrut. "No windows." He selected his move, and one of his creatures skittered to a new position on the board. Chewbacca leaned forward in response, considering this change.

"If the sun is still setting, I am sure it is quite a sight." Chirrut turned to Han. "Captain, where would be a good place to watch the sunset? From the cockpit? The boarding ramp, perhaps?"

Han was taken aback. "Well… does it matter?"

Baze grunted. "He wants to go on top of the ship."

Chirrut's face brightened as though he had just thought of something. "You said there is a lift to the hull, didn't you?"

Han considered his response. "I mean, yeah, we could, but…" He trailed off, unsure how to put it.

"Just take him," Baze said. "Or he won't shut up about it." Chirrut smiled at Han expectantly.

"All right, let's go."

Chirrut grabbed his staff and followed Han from the main hold, around the corridor to the lift. Han paused as Chirrut stepped onto the small platform, his face expectant. Han asked, "How long do you want to be up there before I come get you?"

Chirrut gestured for Han to join him on the lift. "Come up with me. I want to know what you see."

"Well, all right." Han stood on the platform, facing Chirrut, and activated the lift. A motor rumbled and the platform rose.

As they rose, iris-like hatches spun open above them. The second hatch revealed the night sky, and Han shivered a little at the chill in the air. The platform stopped, and they were standing on the hull.

"Watch your step," Han said.

Chirrut pushed the bottom of his staff in front of himself, tapping the panels, ducts, and sensors that studded the hull. His staff only needed to graze a raised pipe or an uneven armor plate and Chirrut stepped over it, seemingly unconcerned.

Han took a step toward Chirrut to give him a hand, but Chirrut walked forward with total confidence, and Han reminded himself that Chirrut had never needed help before.

Chirrut walked over the curved hull of the _Falcon_ , occasionally pausing to crouch down and feel an interesting piece of the ship. Chirrut walked in a wide circle, taking his time, before returning to Han. Chirrut asked, "Where is your favorite part of the hull to sit and relax?"

"Chewie might say I relax up here too often, but that's just taking a break between working on things," Han said. "So I usually just sit down wherever I've been working, and then after a brief rest I get back to work."

Chirrut blinked, tilting his head a little. His face revealed nothing about whether he believed Han or not.

"But if I were going to sit anywhere," Han looked around. "I like it over there, by the mandibles." He pointed before he could stop himself, then quickly dropped his hand. He wondered if Chirrut even knew that the _Falcon_ had mandibles. Perhaps Baze had told him. "This way," he said, and he walked across the hull. As he crossed the _Falcon_ with Chirrut following him, he imagined walking across the ship while blind. Han knew each footstep: the sound varied by the density of the plating on each part of the ship, some parts gave a little underfoot the armor had been patched, and the subtle texture of corrosion and micrometeor impacts reflected the age of each section of the hull.

They reached the smooth part of the hull at the point where the two mandibles were separated by the freight loading bay, and they sat down. Above them, stars clustered in the cloudless sky.

Chirrut turned his head to face Han. "What do you see up there?"

Han leaned back and tried to think of what Chirrut might want to hear. "Uh, the stars are out. You can't see as many of them as you could from space, but you can still see a lot. If we were in a bright city, you would not be able to see the stars at all." He swept his hand across the sky, following the path of the stars, before returning his hand to his side. He looked over at Chirrut. "Since we're in the Terrabe sector, there's a cluster of stars known as the Toad's Head, though from here on Jedha it looks like that toad got a bit squashed." Han frowned. He could not tell how much of this made sense to Chirrut. "Um, stars are like little points of light in the black of the night sky. So the stars are bright but small, while the sky is dark but… big." Han made himself stop. This was getting worse. He wondered whether Chirrut had a concept of colors, or of light and dark. Had he been born blind? If he had, then Han was going to have a hard time explaining the night sky.

Chirrut laughed softly. "If I want descriptions of bright dots in a dark sky, I can ask Baze."

Han bristled. "You asked me what I saw," he said, his voice rising defensively.

Chirrut's smile remained. "What you described is what everyone sees. I want to know what _you_ see."

Han took a deep breath of the chilly night air and blew it out. He turned back to the sky and looked at it in silence for a few minutes. He did not feel like he could come up with anything suitably profound.

"There's a lot up there," Han said. "So many different worlds, and each one is different. You could just keep going, from star to star, from world to world, and never see the same one twice." He waited for Chirrut to respond, but Chirrut waited, silent. Han shifted a little to make his back more comfortable. He tried to put his thoughts into words. "I've been to a lot of places, but there are so many more out there. I could never visit even a fraction of them in my lifetime."

"Does that bother you?" Chirrut asked. His voice had something in it that made Han pause.

"I don't think so," Han said, speaking slowly. "I like the idea that you can just… get lost up there. You can keep moving from planet to planet, moon to moon. And you don't have to go anywhere in particular. You can fly out into the emptiness between planets, and just drift."

"That sounds peaceful," Chirrut said.

"Yeah…" Han said, his voice quiet. He cleared his throat and continued, his voice stronger, "Of course, really you'd run out of fuel and food before too long. And you can't just hop from planet to planet forever. Ships need maintenance, spare parts… so you take jobs. Having a ship offers freedom, but you have to give up some of that freedom to keep the ship."

"You still have the freedom to choose which jobs to take," Chirrut offered.

"I guess so. Sometimes you just take the jobs you can, what with the Empire and everything. And once you take certain jobs, they're not so easy to walk away from."

"What about the Rebellion against the Empire? I'm sure they have need of experienced pilots and ships."

Han scoffed. "Can you picture the _Falcon_ following along behind a squadron of X-Wings?"

"The Empire is doing everything in its power to isolate and overwhelm the Rebels. You could smuggle for them, delivering supplies, extracting agents…"

Han cut him off. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do. I know you hate the Empire, with good reason. Trust me, Chewie and I hate the Empire, too. We've faced more than our share of stormtroopers, TIE fighters, and Imperial agents. But there's no way the Rebels can win."

Chirrut took his time replying, as if weighing his words carefully. "You may not always feel that way."

"The way I see it, we're better off taking missions that aren't complicated by ideals or principles."

"Like this one?" Chirrut asked, with a smile in his voice.

Han laughed, glad Chirrut had lightened the mood. "Well, if Chewie and I need to leave, and you still haven't decided where you want to go, we could just take you with us. What do you say? Want to bum around the galaxy for a while?"

Chirrut chuckled. "It does sound nice."

"We'd have plenty of opportunities to go up against the Empire, as long as you'd promise not to go enlisting in any Rebellion."

"Hm, an interesting proposition."

They were silent for a while. Han spoke up, "You've decided to stay, haven't you?"

"It has been nice to spend a little time on board your ship," Chirrut said. "But I don't think Baze and I can leave Jedha just yet."

"Is that the Force telling you that?" Han asked.

"Maybe. All I know for sure is that I feel like there is something we have to do here on Jedha."

"Well, what is it? Maybe Chewie and I can help you," Han said, surprising himself.

"I would tell you if I knew," Chirrut said, his voice wistful.

They lay under the stars for a while. The air cooled around them, and the hull plates grew chill. The walls of the hangar kept the wind out, but occasional gusts blew down around them. Chirrut shivered.

"Time to go in?" Han asked.

Chirrut sat up. "Yes, let's."

As they made their way back to the hatch, Han peered through the gloom to try to see how Chirrut did such a good job of walking over the cluttered hull. It was hard to make out how much Chirrut used his staff to feel for obstructions ahead. Han concentrated so hard on trying to watch Chirrut that he stumbled over a deck plate that had been slightly crumpled in a past fight. He managed to avoid falling, but his faltering steps sounded loud in the stillness.

"Are you all right?" Chirrut asked, pausing.

"Fine," Han said quickly. He paid more attention to where he was going and hurried his steps toward the hatch. He could feel his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the thought that he had stumbled on his own ship's hull when Chirrut hadn't. He tried to console himself with the thought that the darkness made no difference to Chirrut.

As the lift brought them back inside, Chirrut seemed to guess Han's thoughts. "Do not feel foolish. The Force guides my steps."

"Who's feeling foolish?" Han asked, feeling foolish. Then, "Thanks."

Baze and Chewbacca did not seem to notice when Han and Chirrut rejoined them in the hold. Both were bent over the table, frowns tight as they glowered at the board. Both had two creatures left, and their positioning was unlike anything Han remembered seeing in dejarik before. Han suspected that neither player had made the best strategic choices, but both were taking the game very seriously.

Chirrut yawned pointedly and touched Baze on the shoulder. "Perhaps you can call it a draw?"

Chewbacca breathed out in relief. He shook himself, and offered his hand to Baze. Baze considered it for a few moments. Chirrut nudged him. Baze nodded and took Chewbacca's hand. "Truce," he said.

They stood, joints popping as they stretched. When they stepped away from the table, Chewbacca gathered Baze up into a hug, then searched through Baze's hair with his fingers as though looking for something.

Han quirked his mouth. "That means he likes you. I think he's glad for someone with more hair to groom!"

Baze huffed, but his eyes smiled.

They got ready for bed, taking their turns in the fresher and shower. "Good night," Han said as he got ready to go to the cockpit.

"Good night, Captain. Thank you for everything," Chirrut called.

"Night," Baze said.

Chewbacca called a ‘good night' of his own.

Han turned the ship's lights down on his way to the cockpit. It was nice, he reflected, to share the ship with others now and then. Though the _Millennium Falcon_ was home to Han and Chewbacca, most passengers they had taken aboard had seen it as only a transport vessel. Chirrut and Baze had seen more.

Han settled into his pilot's chair. He looked over the instruments, and everything looked good. Han leaned the chair back, closed his eyes, and relaxed.

He started to drift off when familiar footsteps behind him made him open his eyes. "Hey," he said, as Chewbacca sat down in the copilot's chair. "What's up?"

Chewbacca kept his eyes forward and murmured an explanation.

"Ah. I see." He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, okay, we'll give them some privacy. Good night."

Chewbacca wished Han a good night, and soon they were both asleep.

* * *

Han and Chewbacca woke to the sun shining down on them through the cockpit windows. Han grumbled and stood, nudging Chewbacca awake. When they reached the main hold, they found Chirrut and Baze preparing to leave. Nearby, two plates waited on the holochess table, both stacked high with pancakes.

"You caught us!" Chirrut said, laughing. "We had hoped to sneak out while you slept, but it looks like we took too long eating. I underestimated this one's fondness for pancakes." He slapped Baze on the shoulder.

Han caught sight of a neat stack of credit chits on the engineering station. "That's too much!" he protested. "You could stay for a week at a hotel for that much!"

Baze snorted. "And run the risk of being turned in to Imperial authorities?"

Han picked up some of the credits. "You cooked for us! At least let us pay you back for that?"

Baze smiled and held up a hand, gently refusing the offered credits. "That is not necessary."

Chirrut added, "As we said yesterday, it is rare that we have an opportunity to prepare food with friends."

"Well, if you're sure," Han said.

"You'll want want to get away from Jedha soon," Chirrut said. "I fear something is coming. You may need to repair your ship afterward, if the Empire does not clear you to go. I think you will need your ship in top shape. Whatever is coming, it will cross your path as well, and soon."

Han opened his mouth, considered telling Chirrut what he thought of vague predictions of doom, but he closed it again without saying anything. Something about Chirrut's voice as he spoke, and everything he had seen Chirrut do in the past few days, made Han pause. "Thank you," he finally said.

Chirrut lifted his staff, and Baze hefted his cannon. Baze nodded toward the holochess table, then looked at Chewbacca. "Thank you for the game."

Chewbacca cocked his head, then nodded.

Chirrut shook Chewbacca's hand, then Han's. "Thank you for letting us stay aboard your vessel. Our paths may not cross again, but the Force brought us together for a reason. Safe travels."

"Sure," Han said, shifting awkwardly. He gave a half-smile. "You, too."

As he watched them go, Han leaned his forearm on the doorframe. "So what do you think, Chewie? Do you think the Force was really guiding Chirrut?"

Chewbacca regarded him, then gave a rumble.

"Hm," Han said, lost in thought.


End file.
